


Dear Santa

by daehwipped



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, honestly im so disappointed with myself, jinyoung hasn't been a good kid, this is really just underdeveloped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:09:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daehwipped/pseuds/daehwipped
Summary: Jinyoung wasn't a vivid believer of Christmas until a certain Park Jihoon appeared in his living room.





	Dear Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, to the readers!! I doubt this will have as much kudos as my other two works, reason being it's miserably short and it's been a while since I wrote something long. I would really like to develop this idea, actually, and maybe I'll do it someday, who knows? ;)
> 
> Secondly, this is a birthday gift to my great friend, and I want her to know that she's loved, even if love comes in a form of a Park-Jihoon-breaking-into-your-house. Happy birthday, and I wish that happiness lasts for you. Don't hesitate to message or come find me if you're lonely or just want to talk about stuff, we need to keep this cult if ours alive.

Jinyoung never believed in christmas.

That’s a lie. He vaguely remembers himself, a number of years ago, being all jittery in the morning, dropping his toothbrush in the sink a couple of times before racing to the Christmas tree, and squealing when there’s those neatly wrapped boxes piled underneath it. Little Jinyoung always wished upon a star on Christmas Eve’s that santa would drop by with a few gifts for him, and it did happened, until he was seven.

It was just like any previous Christmas Eve’s. Jinyoung wished upon a star, from the window in his room, when a suspicious creak sounded throughout the apartment. It was just an hour after his bedtime, and for some reason, he was most convinced that it was Santa. Who else would be awake in the household? His younger sister had been asleep before he went to bed, and his parents wouldn’t stay up that late.

And so he went to see for himself, peeking out from the little gap in his door. A plump old man, with a round stomach and white moustache and wrapped in red and white was what he expected to see, perhaps bending down to set the boxes beneath the tree in the living room.

He really shouldn’t, when he sees two familiar figures crouched down, tying big, obnoxious bows on the presents. A huge wave of disappointment washed over him, and if it was big Jinyoung, he would’ve swallowed it down, but little Jinyoung was innocent and fragile, and sobbed quietly in his blankets afterwards.

Christmas really just lost all of its meaning since that winter. Jinyoung’s even grown scornful of it, silently scoffing and snickering when one of his friends start rambling excitedly about Christmas, with that gleam in their eyes that used to be in his. Santa isn’t real, he wants to say, but it’s his younger sister that stops him from doing so.

Jinyoung’s fond of his sister. He really is, and the both of them get along well, both understanding and well paced to each other’s dynamics. But his sister’s a big believer of Santa, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to utter those heartless words upon looking at the pair of big, brown eyes. It would be equivalent to shattering the last shreds of her childlike innocence. And so he smiles along whenever she bounds up to him, with a toothy grin, to discuss about what present Santa would give the both of them. 

“Jinyoung, do you think I’ve been a good kid this year? Will Santa give me what I wished for?” She would ask every year, and Jinyoung would reply with affirmative words, no matter how loud his heart is screaming at him to tell her the truth. He’d like to see the last shred of her childhood a little longer before it disappears. 

This year isn’t particularly different. He received a few silly gifts from his friends earlier today, with Jaehwan giving him a pair of his unwashed socks (because “What’s Christmas without my scent?”) and Daehwi giving him a few lopsided and crumbling chocolate cupcakes. He tasted one, and was sure that it wasn’t fully baked from the strange tasting liquid that’s nested in the middle. It is, however, the nicest gift he received so far, and he silently blesses Daehwi for his kind gesture.

Dinner was alright, and Jinyoung retreated back into his room right after it, turning down the offer to watch a few television programs with his parents and sister. They’re mostly about Christmas anyways, and Jinyoung would rather read a book or catch up with his friends than listen to loud advertisements about Christmas sales.

Indeed, it annoyed Jinyoung to no end, and just how loud did his father turn on the volume? He could hear every single word spoken by the high pitched woman clearly, despite his closed door. A few hours later, and Jinyoung’s barely progressed from where he left off the last time. Screw the advertisements and his family’s love for the television. Can’t a man just have his peace?

Jinyoung finally finds himself able to breathe again, when the lights flicker off one by one in his apartment, with hushed whispers of goodnight and the soft click of doors closing. This was his favourite time of the day, or night, when everyone’s asleep, and silence dominates the dark space instead.

Jinyoung padded over to the window, sinking his bare feet into the warm and fuzzy carpet on his room floor. Thank heavens his parents decided to put carpets in his room, they were always the first to greet his feet in the morning and the last to bid them goodbye. If there’s another thing he loves other than his sister, it would be this carpet.

Presently, Jinyoung sweeps the curtains open, squinting at the sudden increased brightness in front of his eyes. It had been a habit of his to look out these windows throughout the season, and his favourite time to look out was winter. Winter was delicate, and had so many beautiful details in her. Jinyoung loved the frost that prettily laced the edges of the glass, the air that would condense under his hot breath on the window, and he reaches a finger out to draw something that resembles a Santa hat. 

A sudden creak was all that snapped him out from his romantic thoughts. Jinyoung creeps towards the door of his room, his cold, clammy palm wrapping on the doorknob, ready to face whatever- or whoever that was there on the other side. He can’t help but to feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, all the way back in the roots of his brain, when he was seven.

Jinyoung chuckles dryly to himself. Surely Santa wasn’t going to appear behind his door this time, he was just being silly again. It’s probably just a random insect or the contraction of the wooden floor that caused it to sound. He shouldn’t be scared, and Jinyoung repeats this in his mind like a endless cassette tape being played over and over again.

He pushes open the door, half ready to throw a punch or two at whatever that’s there, be it a cockroach, a disheveled zombie, or maybe even just his sister finding for some water to drink. Jinyoung’s met with the warm, orange glow from the light of a lamp in their living room instead, and a boy around his age, with light pink hair, munching on a cookie.

Jinyoung’s first reaction wasn’t to scream, to yell, or even open his mouth for that. He gazes at the pink haired boy from a few metres away, mouth hanging open and dry. The boy’s beautiful, with his smooth skin and his tinted cherry lips, his long and ebony eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, and the light pink blush that’s permanently spread across his nose and cheekbones. Jinyoung particularly can’t take his eyes off the guy’s irises, like the whole universe was shrunk into the small milky brown circle in his eyes, and with each minuscule movement he makes, they twinkle, brighter than the stars in the sky right now.

Pink haired guy must’ve sensed him, because he whips around suddenly, and a look of panic flashes across his soft features for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights, before speaking up.

“Hey. Did you bake these for me? They’re nice.” He gestures to the cookie in his hand, half eaten, smiling awkwardly at a still mesmerised and dazed Jinyoung. 

“No. My sister baked those.”

“Oh.”

Pink haired guy look down for a moment, before looking up again, meeting Jinyoung’s gaze steadily, and setting the porcelain plate down gingerly on the coffee table nearby, before tugging a drawstring bag (probably his, Jinyoung was never someone with good observation) open and taking out a gold and red wrapped box, stacking it on top of the the other boxes piled underneath it.

“Are you like, Santa or something?” Jinyoung finally finds his tongue cooperating with him, and a million questions now bubble up his throat, waiting to be shot out one by one by the guy’s very questionable actions. Why is a beautiful man in his living room? How did he get in here? Why did he put a present underneath the tree? Jinyoung should’ve believed in Santa if he knew he was this ethereal boy his age.

“Nope. I’m Park Jihoon, not Santa. But well, he’s my boss, if you’re curious.” Jihoon answers Jinyoung easily with a few casual shrugs of his shoulders, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for your boss to be Santa.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jinyoung. Bae Jinyoung. Care to explain everything that happened? How did you get in here? What’s in that box?” Jinyoung blurts out, pointing to Jihoon, and to the tree. He didn’t really know what to feel— if it was an middle aged man, Jinyoung would’ve called the police for trespassing, but now that it’s, well, Jihoon, he finds himself ignoring the yelps of his brain.

“Sure. I work for Santa, and you might not know this, but every Christmas, billions of people who believe in Santa are entitled to a gift in their wish list, handmade by the elfs themselves. But you know, Santa’s an old man. He can’t ride around his sleigh with the raindeers like he did when he was younger, so he hires people. People like me, who believed in Santa for at least 18 years of their life—“

Jinyoung bursts out laughing, choking on thin air at Jihoon’s words. It’s not that he doesn’t believe the tale that he’s telling him right now, but the fact the Jihoon actually believed in Santa for 18 years of his life. He’s suddenly inclined to think that the pink haired boy is more foolish than he thought.

When he finally stops laughing and choking, he’s met with Jihoon frowning at him, with a small pout on his lips. Jinyoung almost wants to run up and engulf him in a hug, sobbing about how adorable he is, but they’re still considered strangers, and it wouldn’t be appropriate to do that.

“Anyways, as I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me,” Jihoon pauses to glare at Jinyoung. “They’re millions of people who’re like me, okay? We’re each assigned to a family with their gifts, which is delivered to us by mail, don’t ask me how the elfs did it, I’m pretty sure they can do anything. Overtake the world, even. And we break in to the owner’s houses, and try to get out without being arrested. And this gift is for your sister. Not you.”

Jinyoung waves the last sentence off. He doesn’t really care if Santa gave him a present or not, and he would really like be to laughing at Jihoon’s story right now, and maybe call the police too, but the pure and raw sincerity that’s shining along with all the stars in Jihoon’s eyes stop him, and a small voice tells him that anything’s possible. 

And so Jinyoung drags Jihoon into his room, locks the door, and sits on the chair on his balcony, beckoning him to do so. Jihoon plops down hesitantly, and silence fills the space around them for a while, the pleasant coldness crawling up Jinyoung’s exposed feet, making him shiver.

“There.” Jihoon speaks up, a finger pointed towards the grey lumps of cloud hanging in the night sky. He’s not pointing at the clouds, he’s pointing at a place beyond it, and Jinyoung nods, signalling him to continue whatever tale he’s about to tell him again.

“It’s somewhere there, that I woke up last night. Santa’s place is really just build on piles of clouds, clouds that you can stand on. Even the doors to each room are made of clouds. You should’ve seen the way the elfs worked, it was terrifyingly efficient. Some would be yelling out the different items from the wish lists, and others would be just whipping it up in no time, and there’s a section where they wrap the presents up too, and deliver it to our mailboxes. It’s like a toy factory, but with tinier workers and no machines. It’s so magical.”

Jinyoung stares at Jihoon. He realises now that it would be quite impossible not to stare at the boy, from the way his eyes cloud over with a hazy curtain of dreaminess to the skin that’s illuminated under the faint glow of the moon behind the clouds. Jinyoung may not understand Jihoon’s emotions fully, but he knows how magical something could feel. Like right now, listening to a beautiful boy talking about his adventures beside him on a chilly winter night. This is what Jinyoung would dub as magical to him.

“...I even have a pouch of the gold fairy dust the elfs used! Look-“ Jihoon stops short, fingers wrapped around the small blue pouch, when his eyes ultimately meets Jinyoung’s, and perhaps it’s the sharp and deep, endless orbs that hides a hint of admiration that causes Jihoon to blush, but Jinyoung would never know. You never know what your eyes tell others. 

“Staring is rude.” Jihoon stutters out instead, crossing his arms across his chest with another pout, although it’s obvious from his frantic, darting eyes that he’s flustered. Jinyoung chuckles at the endearing sight. He doesn’t know what’s gotten in him tonight, but he knows he’s contented, with Jihoon beside him, and the same tiny voice suggests that he might have a slight interest in the boy.

It’s not until a few minutes later when Jihoon starts jumping up and down, shooting up from his chair so abruptly that he almost loses his balance afterwards, that Jinyoung looks up, and there’s another guest he loves and welcomes so much. It’s snow, and he watches on silently as the little white specks dance around them languidly, floating down and piling up on the metal railings of his balcony. The whole world around them turns into a snow globe, the streetlamps emitting a hazy aura underneath them, and the cold breeze that hits their skin gently, caressing them for a split second before leaving. Jihoon has his petite hand outstretched into the air, giggling softly whenever a snowflake lands on his pink fingertips and melts against the warmth of it. There’s some that adorns his hair, and Jinyoung thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, with the wide grin that’s plastered on his face, now showing his teeth, and the slight smile lines that creases the side of his mouth. Jihoon’s smile could rival the brightness of the sun, that’s currently somewhere across the world.

“Merry Christmas.” Jinyoung walks up beside Jihoon, his voice barely a whisper. He doesn’t know why he’s saying this to a stranger, doesn’t know that he’ll end up becoming best friends with Jihoon, and becoming something much more in the future. He really doesn’t need to know all that yet, when he’s just here, on the balcony of his, along with a pink haired guy batting at snowflakes, and staring up into the clouds.

Jinyoung grudgingly admits that that night, it was magical.


End file.
